Wondering, Wandering, and Writing

The Background
            My sister and I decided to get away for a couple nights.  Just us.  No children, no dogs, no spouses.  Just us.  And our spouses agreed!  Yay!  (You probably understand that’s the only way we can get away with no children.)  The plan?  None.  Well, of course we’ll eat. Sleep.  Play Scrabble without keeping score.  Nothing exciting or stressful.  We booked a place that seemed to fit the bill and is halfway between us.  We probably paid too much, but I’ve been known to do that from time to time.

The “Coffee Pot”
            The first morning, I awoke first.  I had my usual cup of hot tea.  After a while I decided to make a pot of coffee so it would be ready when Nancy awoke. Well …… this coffee machine also makes expresso and froths milk or whatever and operating it turned out to be above my pay grade.  Finding where to put the coffee grounds took a minute.  “Open” is barely visible on the front of that compartment.  I pushed there and WHALA, I could put the coffee grounds in place.  Now … water.  I searched on the front, on the top, and on the sides.  I pulled a tab on the back and a plastic ruler-looking thing came up.  I put it back.  FINALLY …. I saw a symbol of three drops of water on the top.  I pushed there, and like magic a space for water appeared.  I poured in the water and put the carafe under the grounds-holder. I pushed the “coffee on/off” button.  Nothing. Well, it does help if the thing is pulled in.  Plug it in.  Push the button.  Go sit on the sofa and sip my tea.  No sounds from the coffee pot.  That’s a bit odd.  So, I check out the situation.  There is nothing in the carafe.  What the heck?! 
            Thank goodness for the internet and instruction manuals.   While looking for instructions I see this machine is only $349 on Amazon.  Yeah, we’re in a place above my usual lifestyle.  I’m all for the economy coffee pot from Wal-Mart or Dollar General.  But, I’ve digressed and we still want coffee.  The instructions look incredulous.  I’m supposed to pour a full pot of water into this little space beside the coffee grounds and I can’t find a way the water can get from that little space to anywhere else?  I fill the carafe again.  I slowly pour the water into this small space that seems to have no outlet, expecting to clean up a puddle.  I am amazed that the water gurgles its way into the reservoir for the coffee maker.  I put the grounds back in place, then the carafe, push the button, and wait.
            A few minutes later we had coffee. 😊
            The reservoir for the expresso is still full, and probably will be when we leave.
            Later that day, we tried to use the dishwasher.  That’s another story.

#bgwww24

Time heals all wounds.
Eh.
Sorta.
Kinda.
No, not really.
Well, maybe.

Healing can be a subjective thing, especially when you think of a lot of kinds of wounds.

Many scratches and cuts leave barely a trace of the injury.  A little scratch left uncleaned can turn into a mess and a forever-lasting scar. Surgery cuts leave anything from no trace to a lumpy, bumpy eyesore. Then there’s internal cuts and tears and repairs.  One neat little scar shows on the surface, meanwhile a mess of scar tissue causes havoc on the inside.  Burn scars are treated in a variety of ways to make them look better and feel better and that area of the body to function better.  Without special garments, physical therapy, and massage, burn scars can greatly inhibit physical movement.  The emotional pain caused by the scarring creates a different set of limitations on daily functioning.

I suppose it’s the invisible scars that are the easiest for others to forget and the hardest for us to deal with.  Heck, it’s human nature – out of sight, out of mind.  We all do it to some degree.

But that saying about time.  Does it heal all wounds?  No, it doesn’t.  Does the scarring change over time?  Oh, yes.  Just like a physical scar on a leg or arm or stomach or face changes as the skin is replaced year after year, so are our emotional scars changing. 

I’ve heard it said that trials in life can make you better or make you bitter.

Perhaps, it takes a bit of bitter before it gets better.

The Holiday Season is upon us.  Our family and church gather for fall events, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  ‘tis the official brownie – baking season. The season holds a lot of mixed-up emotions for me.  Wonderful, cherished memories! So many happy memories a book could hardly hold them all.  Heartbreaking memories of loss and struggle. Not as many of these (thankfully!) but they are so very deep.  So, every year I live with this bubbling cauldron of emotions.  Some days I have no idea which will erupt in the bubbles bursting forth.

You know what?  I bet most of us deal with this.  We want to be happy and celebrate all the good things happening around us – even if we have to search hard to find that one happy thing.  We want to rejoice in the goodness of God.  And right smack in the middle of all that desire for joy, bubbles of grief and angst and dread burst into our celebrations.  I pray we all grieve well.  I pray we are able to let the tears flow when necessary, to let a frown rest upon our lips for a while.  I also pray we laugh!  There’s usually something around to laugh at – if only we open our eyes to see it.   

Thank you for reading and sharing some melancholy moments.

Hug those you love.

Hopefully soon I’ll write something a little more upbeat.

#bgwww23

“It can’t be that hard.”

Yeah, right.  Anyone who has done ANY little project around the house knows that it is ALWAYS more difficult or more time-consuming or generally all-around more frustrating than you originally thought it would be.

The list of waiting projects here is a little long.  One little task that hasn’t even made the list lately is to switch the dryer door so that it opens from the other side.

Yes, we knew when we installed the dryer that it was wonky.  You have to step past the door into the corner, open the door, and unload the clothes without really having room to stoop down and get the clothes from the back of the dryer.  These gyrations did not bother me for months, maybe a year or more.  But the last few months ….. every time I opened that door, I got a little more aggravated with the situation.  Did I tell my husband?  No, I did not.  Why didn’t I?  Well, it seemed so trivial compared to some of the other things we want done.

Then, today.  The boys are sick enough to stay home (fevers) but not so sick I need to have an eye on them every second.  And today, I decided I had opened that door in that direction for the last time.  Oh, by the way, hubby is working today.  Yes, on a Saturday.  People in maintenance get to do that on holiday weekends; it comes with the job – rebuilding equipment while everyone else is off work.  But I’ve digressed.

Anyway, how difficult can it be?  Seriously?  The holes are pre-drilled for installation to open from either side of the dryer.  All you need is a Phillips-head screwdriver, and I have that. I have one because it’s mine and I’m mean about it and if anyone borrows MY tools they put them back.  Period.  Even the husband. Ah, I’ve digressed again.

So, I take off the door.  That’s simple  Four little screws.  I remove the tape from the predrilled holes and put it over the holes where the door used to be attached.  I get a kid  to help hold the door in place while I put in the four screws.  I remember to move the latch on the dryer to the other side and use the cover plate to cover that little square hole. Wha-la!  Done!  I start to close the door and it won’t close.  MMMM … what have I done?  OH!  Silly me.  I left one of the screws only partially screwed in.  Fix that.  Door still resists closing past half-way.  Geez, what now?  Well ….. if only I had been as observation as I was tired of which direction the door opened, I would have noticed that in turning the door around so the hinges were on the other side, I also turned it upside down.  Not a problem at all from the front.  Oh, but the inside!  The bottom of the dryer opening is straight.  The top is curved.  And now, the part of the door that goes into the dryer a bit …. The top is flat and the bottom is curved.  Houston, I have a problem.

But everything is MADE to install it easily on either side.  I just have to figure it out. 

And I did.  I turned it this way and that and figured out the door is in two pieces.  In addition to the screwdriver, I needed a table knife to pry the two door pieces apart after removing half a dozen more screws.  Turned the pieces so they were 180 degrees from where they were and screwed them back together.  Then I saw, silly girl, that the latch on the door needed to be moved to the other side.  I used the knife to pop out the two-piece latch and the cover plate on the opposite side of the door.  Put them back where they needed to be. And ….. the door closed just fine.

And the clothes are drying.

Y’all have a nice day, now, ya hear?

#bgwww23

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name!

Oh how easy it is to sing those words during a quiet morning after a (mostly) restful night’s sleep.

The sunshine is peeping through a light layer of clouds.

Roosters are crowing … one toward the east and one to the southwest.

A bird whose song I should recognize is chirping among the oak boughs.

Dogs bark all around.  Once one starts, they all have to say “Good morning. I’m on duty, too.”

A boy child quietly passes me to play in the “tadpole pond.”

The air …. eh ….. not so great. Nary a breeze to be felt.  Fall pollen and temperatures that didn’t dip close to seventy degress ….. but still this is so much better than it could be.

A truck engine rumbles to life, a prop-driven plane passes overhead, and the day slowly becomes busier and noisier.

When the day gets loud and hectic (and the odds are it will!)  may I take a moment to remember with the psalmist, “Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.”

#bgwww23

If you’re around a group of Christians very long at all, you’re bound to hear, “My favorite verse is _____________”

 Often the favorite is John 3:16, “For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Someone who is in the midst of a struggle will often quote Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Music leaders tend to like Psalm 100:1, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.”

My favorite is Lamentations 3:22-23, “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease.Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”  (NLT) Yes, my favorite verse is from a book that is about lamenting – sadness.  However, the verses focus on the goodness of God in spite of the sorrows. 

On the flip side, I don’t know that I have ever heard anyone mention a LEAST favorite verse.  Maybe we have too many we don’t really like to hear (especially when directed at us).  Perhaps we dare not let slip from our lips that words exist in sacred scripture that we don’t like.  Well, if you believe in the Bible and in God, you know he already knows you don’t like it; you might as well fess up.

So …. What is my least favorite verse? The gist of it is that God shows mercy and compassion to whomever he chooses, and that good and bad happen to people who follow him and those who could not care less if he exists or not.  It turns out those are two separate verses.  In Exodus, toward the end of the desert wanderings and very shortly before Moses’ death, Moses asks to see God’s glory.  God says, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.” (Exodus 33:19 ESV). Centuries later, during his longest recorded sermon, Jesus tells us to love our enemies (a very familiar verse) and continues with, “he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.  (Matthew 5:45b ESV)

Why don’t I like these verses?  I blame it on being human. There are some people that I think God should strike with lightening and burn them up.  Sometimes I’ve thought a big rock should fall on some folks and oh so slowly squish the life out of them.  Or maybe that person who hurt my child should slowly rot with a terrible disease. Or the person who talked bad about us should have paralysis of the mouth and spread no more ill will. Somewhere in the midst of my grumbling to God about how these bad people should be treated, he (thankfully oh so gently) reminds me that I have done those things.  Not exactly the same acts, but with the same end result.  I have done things that hurt people.  I have said things that were harmful. And that means that I deserve that same punishment, if I’m to be fair, and don’t we all want more fairness in life?

And then God reminds me of another verse.  It’s sandwiched between a favorite of many people, “Judge not,” and a very funny verse about a plank sticking out of your eye.  Given the times the verse was written, Jesus may have been telling people that to honor God they needed to be fair in their business practices. He may have been telling us, again, to treat people the way we want to be treated, and that includes judgement and mercy.

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye?  (Matther 7:1-4 ESV)

#bgwww23

I’m glad you’ve tuned back in for part two of Showers of Sunday Blessings.

Background:

Back in the Spring, we went to a Greenville Drive game with the Mauldin Miracle League.  The kids got to play in the stadium.  Members of the Drive were the buddies.  If you’re not familiar with Miracle League, you can look them up. The Greenville Young Marines prepared and fed us all hamburgers, hotdogs, and fixins. What I did NOT know was what time the Drive game started.

Older background:

If you’ve been reading for a while, you know that years ago I was diagnosed with conditions that required me to sleep eight hours a night.  Although I often sleep just six and a half or seven now, I am STILL in the habit of being home by dark.

The game starts at 7:00pm.  Generally, a game lasts 3 to 4 hours.  That’s after dark! And then there’s the hour and a half getting from the stands to the car and home.

So I struck a deal with the boys.  If they would leave without a big fuss at 8pm, I’d bring them to an afternoon game.

Fast forward to August:

The Drive gave free tickets to folks, in several counties, who completed the County Library Summer Reading Program.  It’s an afternoon game. YAY!

Not yay – my cousin who LOVES baseball could not go.

My husband is NOT a fan of sitting anywhere for several hours.  Additionally, the sun is not at all kind to his skin.

I had only ONE extra ticket, and could not think of anyone to ask.

OH, and another thing.  For some reason as I’ve gotten older I don’t like crowds as much as I used to.  When I reserved our tickets, only scattered seats were available in sections other than the ones out past first base.  By scattered seats, I mean nowhere with two, much less four, open seats together.

So here we have a set-up for a perfect storm.  One adult, two active boys.  Crowded stadium.

When I whined to my sister on Friday, she thoughtfully said, “I’ll pray for rain.”

After church on Sunday, we zoomed home to grab a quick lunch.  I received a wonderful surprise!  Chuck was going with us!!  YAY!!

In spite of leaving home a little later than I’d planned, we arrived in plenty of time for the boys to get their hats and parade with hundreds of other readers around the stadium.  And then – IT RAINED!  It was a downpour!  We sheltered under the picnic area.  As it turns out, seats way out past first base are really close to that shelter and restrooms.  Those were certainly a plus.  The rain stopped, they uncovered the infield and rechalked the lines, and the game commenced.

Whether it was the heat, the possibility of storms, the actual rain, or lots of people getting tickets “just in case we want to go,” the stadium was less than half full. There was no huge crowd.  Chuck was with me, so we had one adult to stay with each kid when one needed a bathroom break or a walk to break their boredom.  The skies were mostly overcast. I enjoyed the game, especially the sixth inning when Greenville scored seven runs.  We had pleasant conversations with the people near us. 

I also learned that the far-away free parking is just a ten minute walk – in the shade – from the stadium.  Not bad at all.  Thank you, online maps.

I sit here on Wednesday still counting my Sunday blessings.

#bgwww23

Blessings flowed all around me yesterday!

I can’t even figure out where to start.  At the beginning is usually a good place, but the beginning was weeks before, and I want to wrap this up in a few hundred words.

Honestly, the morning got off to a rocky start.  Any morning is prone to a little chaos with two very active preteen boys, and it happened.  Excitement and a little nervousness filled the air in our home and several others.  Weeks of preparation by a number of people had gone into the morning worship service.  A generous member donated a grand piano to the church, and this is its first worship service, with lots of music and several guest pianists.

I also dreaded the afternoon, whose activities needed to start just as soon as we left church.  I’ll write about that in another post.  For now – I was so stressed about five minutes before I was to leave for church that I messaged one of my prayer groups.  Yes, I have a few.  Yes, I love and appreciate each and every lady in them.  I poured out my concern for the afternoon, and my little bit of nervousness about the service. Yes, I play every Sunday.  But, some of these guests’ playing makes it sound like I need to go back to level one piano lessons.  (Okay, maybe it’s not quite that dramatic, but don’t we all play the comparison game at times, and give ourselves the short end?)  They messaged me back. They prayed.  I knew they would!

And then ……

Oh, what a wonderful morning!!

During Sunday School, our fill-in teacher led a thought-provoking lesson from Romans 12.  One of the questions opened the door for a class member to share her experience just in the past week.  God is calling her to a ministry in our neighborhood, and the pieces are falling into place.  Multiple people offered to help, resources are available, and others are encouraging.  I just love it when it’s obviously a God thing! 

Our church choir sang.  Because of a very unusual series of events, we hadn’t in about a month.  It was good to have the choir back.  The music kept going for almost an hour – praise team, piano solos, the Song Birds (a trio of young ladies), a duet, solos – it was great!  The service flowed well, thanks to the preparation of leaders and the expertise of our audio/visual team.  (I don’t even know what to call them these days.  I thought a mixing board was pretty cool, but they manage that and a camera and computers and ….. I’m thankful we have people with skills to manage all that!).  

God blessed me with calm to enjoy it all, in spite of my little one moving around our quarter of the building.  I’d pray he didn’t distract others so much they couldn’t enjoy the service.  I quieted him when he wanted to talk and corralled him a couple times.

I thought of the family connections of people playing and singing, and how proud they were.  Friends sat together to help each other; friends are such a blessing (one pianist is almost blind).

I left the service feeling so very blessed and full of joy.  To be surrounded by musicians who practice to hone their skills and then give it all to God is so very uplifting!

So, the service ran a little long.  We were a little late getting started on our afternoon activity, but I didn’t even care.  I texted my husband, “We’ll get there whenever we get there.”

Stay tuned for part 2 – the afternoon showers of blessings.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness!
Come into his presence with singing!

Know that the Lord, he is God!
It is he who made us, and we are his;^a
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise!
Give thanks to him; bless his name!

For the Lord is good;
his steadfast love endures forever,
and his faithfulness to all generations.

Psalm 100 ESV

#bgwww23

WHY am I even here?

I asked myself that sev-er-al times this past week.

Oh, I knew the process I’d gone through.  I knew the events leading up to the boys and I being a part of the Laurens Baptist Association Mission trip to the Winfield, TN/Pine Knot, KY area.  I knew that I was supposed to be there.  (That process is a story in itself.)  But WHY was I there? 

On Monday the boys enjoyed VBS, and then there was nothing else scheduled for us.  I have drilled into them that vacations are for fun and mission trips are for work.  And there was no work for us.  All mission trips have some details that are up-in-the-air until the last minute, but this one was REALLY that way. We couldn’t cook and serve at the Lord’s Café.  I wasn’t part of any of the all-male construction teams.

 I took the boys back to VBS on Tuesday. In the afternoon we weeded two rows of green beans at the farm AFTER I locked the key in the van where there is NO cell service and the closest locksmith is a 45 minute drive away.  Since we’re here, you see that issue was resolved – another five minute story in itself.  That evening most of the team went for ice cream at the Dairy Bar – it’s a trip tradition.

Wednesday, back to VBS.  I prayer walked the apartment complex. After lunch I took the boys to a local museum.  Thursday, back to VBS.  Mid-morning, Pastor Mike texted me some logistics about this morning, including a request that I speak a few minutes about the trip.  WHAT would I say?  I had a talk with God about that.  Usually, there’s too much to tell about a mission trip.  And overall, there was about this one.  But MY part?  What’s there to tell?  As I drove to get coffee (imagine that), it came to me.  It’s about obedience.  The thought would not go away.

So, my word for you about my part in this mission trip is “obedience.”  When it doesn’t make sense to you or anyone around you.  When you can’t see a WHY behind sitting in stalled traffic on I-26 for 40 minutes (in a drive that’s over 4 hours without delays) so your boys can go to VBS again this summer.  When your kids are making you crazy because the routine is different.  When you’re stiff and catywompus from sleeping on a different mattress.  When you’re grateful someone else is cooking all the meals. When kids get into your stuff. When people hurt your feelings. When promised materials are not at the job site.  When people are encouraging. When the cook finds gluten-free options.  When you sob during group prayer for a young man who attempted suicide and instead of dying he needed a ramp at his home. I cried because the compassionate prayer was for him to have hope for living to go with his trust in Jesus. When you don’t know why you are where you are.  Be obedient.

Okay, God, I’ll tell them that.  It’s about obedience.  Whether we’re being led to go a mission trip to another state, another country, another neighborhood, or across the street, we say yes and follow through. We may lead a Bible study, build a ramp, serve a meal, hold a hand, put on a bandaid, say a prayer, or listen to someone’s story above the ruckus of all our kids. We may go ourselves, pray diligently for those who are going, help fund the activities, or some combination of the three.  You call us to obedience and mercy.

Just after lunch that day, we were blessed to help give away food at The Lord’s Café.

During the block party late Thursday afternoon, a young lady stopped to talk while we watched kids in the bounce house.  She is a rising tenth grader. We prayed for her grandmother’s upcoming surgery.  Later, she shared her hope to go to college and then medical school.  I spewed forth stories and encouragement. It’s been over ten years since our daughter went through that process, but I shared what I learned.  When I asked if I was talking too much, she said, “Oh NO. Everything is helpful.”  I told her, “I’ve been wondering all week why I came on this trip. This is it.  This conversation.”  I pray she follows her dream, and mostly that she continues to follow Jesus.

No job is done until the cleaning is done.

#bgwww23

I’ve been to this place many times.

Yesterday, I brought the boys and Bri, a young friend who is helping us.

We’re in the Anderson area again for a 3-day class for the boys.  The class is just in the mornings, so it’s easy to take the afternoon and do some other things that I may not make time for when we’re at home. 

I chose Stumphouse Tunnel for a number of reasons.  One, I love visiting Issaquena Falls.  Two, I have another adult with me so it’s easier to keep up with two active boys.  Three, I have made so many memories here.  Four, it is always COOL inside the tunnel, and with this weather, cool is welcome!

I remember coming as a child with Mama, Daddy, Hank, and Nancy.  It seems like Uncle Peanut and Aunt Lucille came here with us.  Peanut and his wife Lucille were no biological kin but were definitely family.  Chuck and I came here as a couple.  Susan and Ben were born, and we brought them numerous times.  Ryland and Damain came into this world, and we’ve brought them.  We’ve also brought others who were helping with the boys.  We’ve enjoyed the coolness of the tunnel and the soothing sound of the falls with relatives like sister-cousin Sarah.  I can’t clearly remember who else has been here with us.  My fuzzy memory is one reason I take so many pictures; they help me remember details.

When I think of visiting with Mama and Daddy, I think of Vienna sausages, saltine crackers, and Pepsi.  I remember when there was just a small parking area and to see the falls you walked though the creek.  It was usually shallow enough with a few well-placed rocks that your shoes stayed dry.  Now there’s a bridge across the creek, railings down the path, and a nice platform from which to view the falls.  Port-a-potties are a nice addition!  The last couple times I visited I noticed the picnic shelter and several new picnic tables.  My heart smiles to know people of Walhalla value making it nice for folks to gather in these woods.

As I sit here with a few moments to reminisce over the years and think about just yesterday, I am so very thankful I live where I do.  Treasures like Issaquena Falls and beaches are within easy driving.  I am thankful for family and friends who stick together through the years.  Sweet memories are a treasure, and are sweeter still when rehashed with those we love.

#bgwww23

Fix It? Wait?

Sometimes life gets so overwhelming you absolutely need some help dealing with it.  It may be physical help, as in taming the pile of laundry or cleaning out the room of a deceased loved one.  It may be an errand-running-friend who can sit in the car with toddlers for three minutes while you run into an office.  (It takes longer than that just to get them out of and back into car seats.)  It may be emotional help, someone who sits with you on the porch and watches the darkness turn to dawn.  You may require professional medical care and a prescription; there is no shame in taking care of yourself.  Perhaps a pastor or friend will share spiritual insights.

 Of course, if you share your struggles, there may be a chorus of “You think YOU have problems?  Let me tell you _____________.”  Honestly, there usually are a lot of people in more difficult, perhaps even dangerous, situations.  

If you fail to shield your ears, you will hear, “Geez!  Suck it up, buttercup!”  Whatever is wrong is not really a problem, so put a smile on your face and get busy with whatever you need to be doing.

For Christians, there’s the sage advice to “Be still and know that I am God.”  Stop fighting the problem.  Just wait.  God will take care of it.

Some folks blame everything on every one else or anyone else and expect somebody to fix whatever it is that isn’t perfect.  For a while, this works.  Eventually, somebodies get tired of fixing everything and nobody is left to do anything.

So, in the midst of despair, depression, being overwhelmed, grieving, whatever the problem is, what do we do?

Depends on the battle.

Some battles are simply not mine to fight (nor yours).  We really have to be still and let things happen.

Sometimes we need to simply sit and wait for the dawn to arrive.

Counseling advice is to assess the situation, determine where you want to get to, and figure out a way to get there.  Don’t ignore the problem but admit it and deal with it.

Dealing with it may mean a lot of quiet time, alone with oneself and God.  There may need to be conversations with others to resolve issues and see if the relationships can be mended.  If they  can’t, forgive and move on.  Forgiveness frees you from carrying the burdens of resentment and bitterness.  The wrong is still wrong; you don’t have to reconcile, but do stop spending energy and time on “If I ever get my hands on so-and-so I’m gonna do this and that.”

For some battles, there is no tangible enemy.  Terrible stuff happens with no discernible cause.  Or the perpetrators get away with paying little or no price for the dastardly deeds.  An offender may not admit to being a part of, much less the cause of, the problem.  Admitting our own wrongs can hurt.  Forgiving ourselves can be difficult. Guilt, bitterness, revenge, hatred, and resentment are heavy.  They drag us down; sometimes immobilizing us. Forgiveness lightens your burden. 

In my experience, forgiveness always changes the forgiver.  Sometimes it will change the offender.  God, who tells us to forgive, will enable us to forgive.  When we lay down those burdens, we can more easily and joyfully face another day. #bgwww23